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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23425135">Do You Have the Time?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TFLWrites/pseuds/TFLWrites'>TFLWrites</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Life Is Strange (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Time Travel Society, F/F, Mystery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:02:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,544</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23425135</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TFLWrites/pseuds/TFLWrites</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Max becomes lost in a foreign place, she runs into a stranger who seems to know more than she lets on, and thinks Max is someone she's not. A startling discovery of powers leads to a mystery that spans the globe over thousands of years, where behind every question lies deceit and sabotage.</p>
<p>There's always more to learn, so long as Max follows the rules, but she seems to always run into that glaring issue:</p>
<p>
  <i>Further Information Cannot be Found Here.</i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. What's Your Sign?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>The First Maxim: Information is all.</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Step by step, Max Caulfield wandered blindly through the dark streets of London, but any better than that, she couldn't place. There were sparsely placed gas lanterns every so often, casting dim shadows on the ground below. Only the moon provided any natural light, and she was quietly thankful that it was full. Still, between the islands of visibility, she could make out almost nothing around her.</p><p>Lost in an unfamiliar place, not entirely certain of how she got there, Max tried to collect herself. This had to be a dream. It <em> had </em> to. The implication of what it meant if it wasn't was too much to handle. But despite her hope, everything felt far too real. The roughness on the stone beneath her feet, the occasional puddle she stepped in because of the dark, the horrible smell that came from the odd alley. Whatever happened, she didn't understand it.</p><p>She wasn't in 2014 anymore, that much was clear. Her poor knowledge of history only gave her a tiny idea of the year. No electricity and people still spoke English—with a slightly odder accent than she expected—which meant it was probably sometime in the nineteenth century. Or maybe eighteenth; she wasn't entirely sure.</p><p>The only reason she was sure she was in London was that she overheard a man standing outside of a busy building mention it. She had walked up to maybe ask for some help or direction at the very least, but that turned out poorly. His boisterous comments about <em> cheap whores </em> and <em> lonely little women </em> still rang in her head, and a memory of that dirty smile sent a shiver down her spine. It was when he moved to grab her she made a quick escape, daring away and running until she was sure he wasn't following her. There was the chance someone inside could have helped, but she didn't dare risk going back.</p><p>Was it her clothing that set him off? Max wore a thin, slightly dirty brown dress that opened wide near the top. There was a band of fabric, first tied tight around her waist, but she had quickly loosened it once she realized her difficulty breathing, letting the bottom of her dress drag slightly on the ground. It... looked like she belonged, not that her knowledge of Victorian fashion was deep enough to tell her if she didn't.</p><p>It wasn't like she had chosen what to wear, either. The first thing she remembered was waking up face down in a puddle in a small area between two large buildings, dressed in what she still wore. That was over four hours ago if she had to guess, and other than that first man she had only spied a few other people on the street, each in some drunken stupor. She refused to approach them.</p><p>But she couldn't stay outside forever. It was a stroke of luck that it was warm out, which meant she wouldn't freeze, but that didn't solve the problem of food, or a place to sleep, or getting back home. Oh god, how would she even go about getting home if this wasn't a dream?</p><p>The entire situation threatened to overwhelm Max, so she stopped, leaning against a brick wall to catch her breath, and tried to think back on what happened, hoping that it would provide some answer.</p><p> </p><p>-~-</p><p> </p><p>It was a rainy Saturday in April, though it seemed to Max that every day was a rainy one in Seattle. It was definitely her least favorite part of the city. She much preferred the sunshine and fluffy white clouds of somewhere more... shining. California, Florida, or maybe even outside the country. She hadn't ever been to either, but even the idea was enough of an escape from the constant overcast.</p><p>Still, she had lived in the city all her life and gotten used to it as best as she could. Sometimes it became a little too big for her, but she dealt with it. At least the opportunities were there for her to take. Good colleges, good jobs, good people. She could be stuck in worse places.</p><p>However, with the year well underway, little was on her mind than school. Finals loomed and studying filled most of her weekdays. Saturdays like today, however, were a welcome respite from the hustle of exams.</p><p>For the past couple of months, she had spent several hours on the weekend with one of her instructors, working on building her portfolio. He claimed that having a strong base led to exposure, and exposure led to publicity. Max agreed. Her biggest problem was always not being brave enough to get out there, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to fix that.</p><p>Like she did most Saturdays, Max slept in as much as she could. Her meeting with her instructor always started in the afternoon, which meant that she had plenty of time to rest after her many hours studying the night before. She woke up well-rested and ready to take on the day.</p><p>After brushing her teeth, showering, dressing, and putting on her makeup, she wandered downstairs with her digital camera in its case. She still slept in her parents' house while she went to classes since she lived close enough to walk, but neither of them were home. They both had early starts on the weekend which meant she usually woke up to an empty house.</p><p>Max walked over to the kitchen to look for something to eat, but nothing caught her eye. Cereal or toast were what she usually relied on, but today she wanted something different. The days had blended together with how busy she was, the weekends her only break from constant work. Maybe something small would help raise her out of her funk.</p><p>Plan decided, Max gathered her backpack and camera bag, bought to protect her expensive equipment from the constant rain, and walked outside. She still had some time before meeting, so she decided to take a small detour for food around the neighborhood. The studio was near campus, which meant it wasn't too far. Besides, he could stand to wait a few extra minutes.</p><p>Max had heard of a new little bakery a few blocks down, so that was where she headed. The rain drizzled overhead as she walked, but it wasn't harsh enough to be bothersome. Most other people she passed felt the same way, as only a few of them ran from it. In a place like this, the citizens had learned to accept it.</p><p>Bruno's Bagels sat on the corner of two short streets, a small, squat building with multiple blue signs in the windows showcasing their deals. The sight of it made Max's mouth water, and she entered to order, immediately assaulted by delicious smells.</p><p>Less than ten minutes later, Max came out with a blue bag of two warm, buttery bagels. She began walking down the street and pulled one out, the heat of the food pushing away the depressing chill of the rain as she ate. She'd save the other for later.</p><p>She continued down the sidewalks to her instructor's studio, wondering what they'd be working on this afternoon. Sometimes they wandered nearby, and she'd listen to him describe what made a good photograph and how to capture it, but the rain would likely keep them inside. Then again, he always claimed that nothing should stop true art.</p><p>Only a few blocks away from her destination, while she walked past a run-down laundromat, Max spotted something moving in a small puddle just below her feet. She paused her trip and bent down to look closer. It was a small round yellow bird lazily drifting in the shallow water. Whenever a raindrop fell on its head, it shook its body once in a rapid flap, but otherwise, it seemed to be content.</p><p>The scene called to Max. She stepped off the sidewalk to underneath the overhang outside the building and set down her food as she pulled out her camera. This was exactly the sort of thing her instructor told her to look out for. <em> 'Take the shot, no matter when or where' </em>, he always said. Well, he would be proud of this.</p><p>Carefully, and protected by the rain, Max focused her camera on the scene. She waited for the perfect moment, and with a soft <em> whirr </em> and <em> click </em>, she caught it. The noises repeated as she took several more over the next few seconds, trying to get something usable. While Max preferred older cameras like Polaroids, she couldn't dismiss the many boons of digital. It saved her from needing to get it perfect the first time, at least.</p><p>"Y'know," came a voice from beside Max. "We don't talk about the third one."</p><p>Max looked away from her camera at the voice. It came from a girl, probably around twenty years old, with blue hair. She wore a plain black t-shirt and ripped jeans, and she had a knowing smirk on her face.</p><p>"Um, excuse me?" It sounded like the woman was talking to someone else, but her cocky stare said otherwise.</p><p>"I'll say it 'til the day I die. We don't talk about the third one."</p><p>"The third what? Do I know you?" Max was so confused, it was like she had missed the beginning of this conversation. Who even was this girl?</p><p>She provided no answers, only a lazy half-salute as she turned and walked away, still smirking as if she knew some hilarious secret, but refused to say.</p><p>Max paid her no more mind. She was probably just another of the many strange folks that roamed Seattle's streets, for whatever reason they fancied. The girl looked harmless, at least. Sometimes the people weren't so much, and the memory of a few unfortunate run-ins sent a shiver down Max's spine.</p><p>But that was in the past, and all that mattered now were her plans for the day. Max pulled out her phone and checked the time, seeing that she had to get moving if she didn't want to be late. She'd go over the bird pictures later. With a practiced hand, she capped her lens and placed her camera back in its bag. She absently reached for her bagel bag. However, her hand only met empty concrete.</p><p>Her head whipped around, and there was nothing to see. Her food was gone. Max looked out at the street, but no strolling hands held what she looked for. The girl who had interrupted her was nowhere to be seen, either. She had had nothing in her hands when she left, so it likely wasn't her, but still... Max had been looking forward to her bagel.</p><p>It could have been any of the number of people wandering by, tempted by the smell enough to swipe it while the photography distracted Max. Why did people have to be so mean?</p><p>Even though it was only a bagel, Max felt dejected. She made sure she wasn't missing anything else and left the bird be. No more stops; it was time to go.</p><p>When Max finally arrived at the studio—a wide, sleek building nestled between two other offices—she shouldered her bag and went straight inside. No one was at the front desk, so she sat down in a nearby chair and waited. The clock above her ticked far too loudly, but the various posters of famous photography provided a nice distraction to pass the time.</p><p>After that... she couldn't remember. It wasn't even a blur of a forgotten memory, more like a wall that blocked everything that she <em> knew </em> she should recall. All those hours and lessons, gone.</p><p>Wait. Not entirely true. One memory came to her. Her instructor, eyes bloodshot and wide, staring directly at her, hair a scraggly mess.</p><p><em> Don't trust them </em> , he had said. <em> They're out to get us </em>.</p><p>That was it. No explanation for who 'they' were, or why they cared about him. Or her.</p><p>And now she was stuck in this unfamiliar place that <em> had </em> to be a dream. One big, realistic, dream. Maybe it was her imagination, but the buildings seemed to grow, closing in on her as she wandered the dark streets. She didn't know what she was looking for, and the few people she had run into made the prospect of asking seem dangerous.</p><p>So all she could do was walk. A nearby sign read <em> Draycott </em> in white on black, barely visible in the darkness, but the word had no meaning. A wet, acrid smell wafted from an alley and angry shouting from further within. This place wasn't safe. Would there even be a safe place anywhere she would find? So far, she hadn't even found a place to sleep, and with her lack of money, prospects looked dire. Wandering around would only tire out the tiny remainder of her energy. Wishing that she could just go home, Max slid down against a nearby wall. It had a slight dampness, and the edge of her dress soaked slightly on tiny puddles in the ground, but she didn't care. She stared down at the ground, desperately searching the cobblestone for some answer.</p><p>"Excuse me, miss. Do you have the time?"</p><p>It took Max several moments to realize that someone was talking to her; she was so lost in thought. She turned and saw a pretty young woman standing there with a raised eyebrow, waiting for a response. Her dress was a deep royal blue covering a large... cage. Max was sure it had a name, but couldn't recall it. The woman also wore a pale brown hat with what felt like a comically overlarge feather sticking out of it over neat dirty-blonde hair, and a small multi-colored bag at her side. This outdated fashion made no sense to Max.</p><p>"<em>Quelle heure est-il </em>?" she continued when Max didn't respond. "Are you well?"</p><p>"Uh..." Max wished she had a watch. Her phone wasn't in her pocket—it hadn't managed to survive her change of clothes—but pulling that out would cause all sorts of trouble even if she did. Weren't there clocks somewhere on the streets? "Sorry. I don't..."</p><p>Max tried to turn away, but a strong hand on her shoulder stopped her.</p><p>"Look," the woman said, holding tight. "I asked if you had the time, okay?"</p><p>She seemed oddly frustrated about something so simple, and that made Max worry. There was only one thing she knew: She couldn't trust this woman, whoever she was. Max couldn't risk ending up as an unsolved murder hundreds of years before anyone would think to look for her.</p><p>Something instinctual told her that this wasn't a safe situation. Without chancing a response, Max pulled herself away and darted for the nearest corner. Getting out of sight was the first priority. If the woman was just asking for the time, things would be fine either way, but something about the way she spoke seemed different from everyone else she had come across, and Max decided not to risk it.</p><p>It was dark, but she took care to not stumble over loose bricks or curbs as she ran full sprint for a wide alley between two buildings. Her tight dress made moving quickly difficult. She hoped that the woman wouldn't follow and instead decide that she was too much of a hassle to kidnap, kill, and butcher. She couldn't be caught. She <em> wouldn't </em> be caught.</p><p>Max spared not a single look back as she rounded the corner—directly into the woman. Max jumped back in surprise. There was no way the woman could have gotten there before her.</p><p>But it didn't matter how she caught up, only that she did. With no hesitation, Max shoved the woman—earning a yelp of <em> hey! </em> in response—and turned to run back out into the street.</p><p>The woman would know this town better than her, so Max made the snap decision that being around people would help. She passed an inn still open a ways back, she thought. Unfortunately, she had neither a map nor a great memory, so she ran in what she only thought was the general direction of safety.</p><p>This time, she glanced back several times to see if the woman was chasing her, and thankfully, she didn't seem to be. Still, she refused to stop.</p><p>When her breath finally ran out and she could run no more, Max paused, leaning against a slightly sticky wall. It might have disgusted her, had she not been more focused on fleeing. She looked around, not spying the woman, and waited as long as things looked calm. Cool sweat covered her forehead, and she tried not-so-successfully to wipe it off.</p><p>"Seriously?" a voice said, it's annoyance obvious.</p><p>Max jumped at the noise and turned to see the woman again, her dress not ruffled even the slightest, perfectly well-rested. She didn't appear to have walked at even a brisk pace, let alone however far Max had sprinted.</p><p>Max turned, her body begging for oxygen as she did so, and prepared to begin the chase again, only to be stopped by a firm grasp on her wrist. She struggled as hard as she could against the woman, but the run had left her worn out and the woman was stronger than she appeared, so she could only manage a weak tug. When it became clear to Max wasn't getting away again, she looked up at her captor in fear.</p><p>"Are you done?" the woman asked. She had fallen from annoyance to only slight confusion now, and Max resigned herself to whatever may happen.</p><p>Max only nodded her head in response.</p><p>"Why did you run? I was trying to say hello."</p><p>"I..." Max wasn't sure what to say. "You scared me."</p><p>"That much was obvious. But your first instinct was to run? Where were you going, anyway?"</p><p>"Home," Max said. A simple lie, but the woman's raised eyebrow told her it didn't take.</p><p>"Okay." The woman tapped on her lip, still not letting go of Max's arm. "Answer one thing for me, and I'll leave you alone. What year were you born?"</p><p>When she was born? Max didn't even know what year it was right now. She obviously couldn't say where she was really from; the woman would think her crazy. There wasn't a lot of time to think, so she said the first year that came into her head.</p><p>"Eighteen...twelve?"</p><p>"Wow. I have to say, you look amazing for fifty-three. Is it the lotion you use?"</p><p>The woman said it as a joke, but Max was still so confused and off-balance that she didn't find it the slightest bit funny. When she didn't respond, the woman continued.</p><p>"Let me guess..." The woman made a show of thinking. "You speak English, obviously, so that narrows it down a little, given your accent. You're not from anywhere near here, from how clean you are. When I asked for the time, your hand went to your pocket on instinct, and I doubt it was a pocket watch. You do have a certain way of speaking..." A glint caught in her eye and she smiled. "I'm going to say late Piscean or early Aquarian. Right there on the cusp."</p><p>"Uh..." Was the woman asking her sign? Was she... flirting?</p><p>The woman kept prodding. "1990's to 2010's. That's when you were born, right? American, too?"</p><p>"Um..." Max was stunned. This woman knew way more than she expected and even guessed where she was from so quickly after meeting her. She must have stuck out more than she knew. "Ninety-five. That's right."</p><p>"Yes!" The woman pumped her free arm. "I love running into other spanners. You, uh, aren't going to run again if I let you go, right?" She shook the hand still attached to Max.</p><p>Max shook her head, and she let go. Even if Max wanted to run, the woman would only catch up to her effortlessly, if last time was any sign. Besides, she seemed nice enough. Though Max was still unsure if she could trust her.</p><p>"So, what brings you to ye old London town? The smell? The dirt? The smallpox?" She glanced at Max's poor clothing. "How'd you even get here?"</p><p>Max considered staying silent, but this might be her only way home. She just had to stay calm and not let too much out. "I... don't really know. I woke up here a few hours ago and wandered around until you found me. I ran because I thought you would hurt me. It hasn't been a good day."</p><p>"Huh." The woman tapped a finger on her lip. "Well, we spanners gotta stick together. I can't get you back myself, but I've a drop off to make with someone who can. I figure he can probably give us a ride."</p><p>There was that word again. <em> Spanner </em>. This woman thought Max was one too. Hopefully, Max could just play dumb until she returned home, where she could put this whole thing behind her. And maybe get some answers from the man who knew something.</p><p>"That sounds good," Max said. "How long is the trip?"</p><p>"What?" She seemed confused at the question. "He's in town. I can take us there."</p><p>Apparently that was the wrong question—one of many, it seemed—but the woman let it slide. She held out a neat hand for Max to take and the moment their hands connected, the world shifted around them.</p><p>The change happened with no fanfare. In the blink of an eye, Max stood on a different wide stone street, where soft rays of early morning sunlight peeked over the edge of a new building in front of her. The sound of a group of people walking behind them popped into existence, breaking the silence of the night Max had grown used to.</p><p>Without a pause, the woman pulled open the door and walked inside, clearly expecting Max to follow. Max looked up at the large sign above the doorway.</p><p><em> Jimmy Hendrick's Instruments </em>.</p><p>That... wasn't what Max expected. Then again, there wasn't much she was. Not seeing many other options, she followed the woman through.</p><p>Inside of the building was empty of people, though the tight paths between the stalls of instruments left little room for Max to move. She spotted the woman pass through a curtain at the other end of the room, but Max paused to examine the shop. A piano lay pushed into a far corner, and drums of various shapes and sizes lined one of the walls. Above those were several shelves of wind instruments: Flutes and piccolos she could name on sight, but that was it. The stations flanking her each had large stringed instruments. To Max, they looked like weird guitars.</p><p>The lack of any movement inside, along with the soft morning light coming in from the large windows, gave an air of calm to the building, one that made Max think that if the entire situation wasn't one that still struck her as impossible, would be enchanting. But lost as she was, it only seemed strange.</p><p>Max walked over to the curtain the woman passed through, and as she approached, she heard the voice of an unfamiliar man. He spoke quietly, though there was a tenseness in it that Max immediately recognized.</p><p>"-ookin' for more trouble. If her mentor's dropped her off, I trust them more than I trust you."</p><p>The woman groaned before she responded. Her voice had lost its accent, and Max heard her words flow much more loose and casual compared to before. "Yeah, no, I get it, you think my word's worth less than the shit people track in your goddamn shop. But this girl needs some help. Besides, you owe me one anyway, for the letters."</p><p>"Yeah, yeah," the man said, and Max chose the lull in the conversation to step through the curtain. She couldn't let them talk about her while she wasn't in the room, and she didn't feel comfortable eavesdropping.</p><p>Behind the curtain lay a small office, about a quarter the size of the store out front, and the majority of the room was taken up by a large wooden desk covered in unopened envelopes. Behind it stood a scruffy older man in a long dark blue frock coat. A crushed a wrinkled stovepipe hat sat on his head, knocked askew and revealing a mop of dirty brown hair. An unpleasant skunk-like smell assaulted Max as she entered the room. When she did, he looked up and sneered to her.</p><p>"Well, well, if it isn't our new guest."</p><p>Max couldn't place the look he gave her. "Are you... Jimmy Hendrick?"</p><p>The man—<em> Jimmy? </em>—stared at her for several seconds, saying nothing. His gaze immediately unsettled Max, and the weight of his stare forced her to look away from its intensity. The woman only raised a single eyebrow.</p><p>"You gotta be shittin' me," he said, each word laced with frustration. "My name's <em> Frank </em>, girlie. I wish I was fuckin' Jimi Hendrix, but I ain't anywhere close to his level." He leaned forward over his desk, closer to Max. "Tell me, what Span are you?"</p><p>"What... span?"</p><p>Frank's hand made an audible slap as he brought it to his face. He shook his head as he spoke to the woman. "Chloe, you brought me a <em> leveller </em>. What. The. Fuck?"</p><p>The woman snapped an answer out. "Bullshit. She's no leveller." She turned to Max. "Tell him what you told me. When were you born?"</p><p>Frank's look was one of thinly-held-back anger, and Max thought it wise to answer quickly. "I, uh, was born in 1995. In Seattle. It was April 5th in 2014 before... I came here."</p><p>The answer seemed to satisfy Frank, because he brought his hand down. "Okay, so you <em> aren't </em> a spanner?"</p><p>Max shook her head.</p><p>"That makes things more complicated." His gaze fell to several of the papers on his desk before snapping up to the woman. "Chloe, were my papers the last thing you were doing this level?"</p><p>She nodded once.</p><p>"Good, so I'll take you two girls back right now. Normally, I'd just wipe her and be done with it, but I need to make a meeting first, all right? We'll see how it goes afterward."</p><p>Frank stood and walked around to the front of the desk where he held out both hands expectantly.</p><p>Chloe grabbed one and looked over to Max. "C'mon. We'll head back to my place and get you all sorted. It'll be okay."</p><p>The slight smile on her face was friendly, but once again Max felt that she had little option but to follow. She cautiously walked over and put her hand in Frank's.</p><p>Instantly, the world around Max changed once more. The dusty inside of a Victorian instrument store was replaced with the exterior of a modern house and neighborhood under the late afternoon sun. A beat-up old truck sat in the driveway where they stood, and not too far down the street sounds of kids playing carried over. The change disoriented Max almost as much as last time, and it took her several seconds to compose herself as Frank stepped back.</p><p>"Now, you two stay here while I get this figured out. No spanning, got it?"</p><p>Chloe rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Don't span, don't slipshank, don't gemini. Got it."</p><p>"And you owe me one for this," Frank added.</p><p>"What?" Chloe threw up a hand. "You were gonna take me back anyway, and this made us <em> even </em>."</p><p>He shook his head. "Yeah, but now I gotta got talk to an Exalted, so be thankful I don't make it more."</p><p>"Whatever."</p><p>Frank gave her a look like he would say something else, but instead he turned away. He took a single step and there wasn't even as much as a <em> pop </em> as he disappeared into thin air. No trace remained of where he stood.</p><p>"Welcome to Arcadia Bay, 2022," Chloe said from to Max as she watched him leave. "You, uh, probably have a lot of questions," She lightly put a hand on her shoulder to guide her toward the house. "And I can answer them, all right? Just... maybe not tonight."</p><p>Max tore her gaze away from where Frank stood and let herself be led inside. The house looked fairly normal, with a small kitchen attached to a living room and stairs that presumably led to bedrooms. Max could see a large flat-screen TV in the living room, though it was currently off.</p><p>"Why won't you tell me now?" Max asked. "I'm... I don't have any idea what's going on."</p><p>Chloe grimaced slightly as she walked into the kitchen. Max stood near the doorway. "It's not that I <em> won't </em>, it's just a better idea that we wait on this, okay? Besides, this, uh, isn't usually the job of someone of my rank. They usually leave that for Span Fours. I'm only a Two."</p><p>"What does that mean?"</p><p>Chloe shrugged. "It means I get bossed around by Fours, like Frank out there, and I gotta find my place before I can move up. But like I said, not a big deal right now." She held out both hands. "You hungry?"</p><p>Max was acutely aware that she had not eaten in almost a full day, especially since her bagels were stolen this morning. Between that lost time and her wandering the streets, she never had a chance. "A little..." Max said.</p><p>Chloe perked up at that. "Good! I've got my mom's recipe that I know you're gonna love." Her body seemed to jump in place the tiniest bit, and everything about her changed. She now wore a t-shirt and torn jeans, and two plates of several pancakes were suddenly in her hand. Her new clothes made her look several years younger. Small flecks of batter dotted her fingers, and Max was sure they weren't there a second ago. "It's not conventional, but it's delicious."</p><p>The sight of the food almost made Max drool, but she stayed quiet while Chloe set the two plates down at the table. Forks, napkins, and syrup were already set out for them, though Max didn't see Chloe put them down, and they dug in to eat. Max wondered how strange she must look, still wearing her dirty brown Victorian-era dress while eating pancakes for dinner. It definitely wasn't something she ever expected to experience.</p><p>At first, Max ate in silence, enjoying the wonderful taste of the food, but the many questions on her mind still ate at her. She understood nothing at all, and that worried her. She had gotten past the point of fearing Chloe, but that fear was replaced by curiosity.</p><p>Soon enough, with only a few bites left, she broke the silence. "So, what do you all... do?"</p><p>Chloe looked up, having since annihilated her plate. "Whatever we want mostly. We're all time travelers, called spanners, and we're free to do anything. Some people hunt down criminals-"</p><p>"-Like TimeCop?" Max interrupted.</p><p>Chloe smiled at that. "Yeah, but bringing that up to a Foxhorn is a quick way to annoy them. So naturally, I do it whenever I can." She paused for a moment. "Some people raise families, or make money, or do doctor stuff. Some people just do a lot of nothing, and that's pretty much where I fit in."</p><p>"Wow..." Max was amazed that there was this entire community that spread across time, and they had managed to stay completely hidden. "That's really cool."</p><p>"Yeah, no kidding. It comes with a lot of cool perks too, like this." Chloe pointed to her slightly ruffled blonde hair and moments later a wave of perfectly dyed blue rolled over, changing its color.</p><p>"Whoa!"</p><p>"The joys of futuristic modding. Helps me blend in, but still keep my style." Chloe shot another grin at Max's amazed face and nodded at their empty plates. "You still hungry?"</p><p>Max shook her head. "No thanks. That was delicious, though."</p><p>"I know, right? My mom makes them even better than me, trust me." She turned in her chair over to the television. "Do you want to watch something, or would you rather just sleep? I know it's been... weird, and maybe it's a good idea to give you some time to adjust." Chloe let the words hang for a moment. "So, yeah. Movie?"</p><p>"Uh, what do you have to watch?" While Max could feel her body wearing down, the food had given her much-needed energy, and she craved a bit of normalcy. She didn't know Chloe at all, but she seemed nice enough that Max wouldn't mind spending the time.</p><p>"Oh, pretty much everything." Chloe stood and walked over to the TV to set up and Max sat down on the couch to let her. "But I'm a sucker for 80s stuff and like sci-fi. I have The Matrix, Terminator, Star Wars<em>, </em>the Bladerunner movies..."</p><p>Max cut in when she heard that. "Bladerunner movies? There's more than one?"</p><p>"Oh shit! Right, yeah. They made two sequels to the old one with Harrison Ford. Bladerunner 2049 was amazing. The one after... not so much. We don't talk about the third one."</p><p>"Could we watch the second one? I love the original, and I can't believe they made more."</p><p>Chloe smiled at that. "You have good taste, Max. I'll get it set up."</p><p>As Max watched her turn everything on and maneuver through Netflix, Max noticed almost a dozen photos on the fireplace mantle, along with a small chalk picture shoddily drawn below the pit. From this distance, Max could only tell that there were several people in the photos, and she presumed that one of them was Chloe. The others must have been her parents or siblings.</p><p>"Will people be mad if you show me this? It hasn't been released where I'm from, so isn't that like breaking a rule of time or something?"</p><p>Chloe shook her head as she sat down beside Max. She had a controller in her hand to find the movie. "No one cares, as long as I don't make a mess about it. They're cool about it. That's how I saw the third one and a whole host of other movies. But like I said, we don't talk about that. It was <em> bad </em>."</p><p>Max chuckled at the dramatic way Chloe said the word. "So you can just give, like, electricity to Galileo? Or a map of the world to Christopher Columbus?"</p><p>"If someone did that, we'd stop them. It's the small stuff they don't care about, like future food or unreleased movies or harmless pranks."</p><p>"What kind of harmless pranks?"</p><p>Chloe thought for a moment, then caught Max's eye with a devilish smile. "Why don't I show you?" And with that, she disappeared, exactly like Frank.</p><p>Several seconds passed, and she reappeared where she had sat, a familiar blue bag in her hand. It had the barest hint of water on it from where Max had set it down. Chloe reached inside and pulled out a single bagel, toasted to perfection. She held it out for her to take.</p><p>"<em> You </em> stole my food?" Max said in surprise. She hadn't made the connection before, but Chloe really was that girl she had only met. The blue hair solidified the connection.</p><p>Chloe shrugged. "Harmless, I told you. I hope you, uh, aren't mad."</p><p>Max slowly reached out and took the stolen item. It was still warm like she just took it out of the store. After everything that had happened: Her time in London, the teleportation here, the instant pancakes; this was the first thing that truly solidified that things were now more crazy than they had seemed.</p><p>She looked from the bagel up to Chloe and shook her head with a smile. "No, no. It's a little funny."</p><p>Chloe grinned at that. "Awesome. Now, you munch on that while I start the movie." She turned and grabbed the remote. Max saw her jump in place, like when she appeared with the pancakes, and the lights in the room turned themselves off. She leaned back in the chair and glued her eyes to the screen as the opening logos began.</p><p>Max continued to nibble on her bagel while thinking. She might be in trouble somehow, from how Frank reacted, and the lack of knowing what would happen to her scared her. This world was like nothing she had ever known before, and even in the span of a single day, so much had happened that made little sense. Still, Chloe was kind enough, and Max felt like she could trust her, so she tried to push away her thoughts and focus on the movie for an easy few hours.</p><p>But as a great panning shot of a barren futuristic landscape began, Max couldn't help but wonder what the future truly held.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>After finishing my last story, this one was an odd one that came to me one day, based off a tabletop game from the 90s that approximately twelve people played, called Continuum.</p><p>Not to be confused with the Stargate movie. Or the TV show. Or the webcomic...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. An Introduction to Frag</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>The Second Maxim: Respect Your Elders.</em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>A sharp light shining directly into Max's eyes roused her from her sleep. Through her haze, she tossed a hand up to protect her eyes, but the sun would not cease. Reluctantly, she pried herself upright, letting out a loud yawn as she stretched out her tense muscles. Her eyes still had that early morning crust, but she had gotten used to finishing her routine still practically asleep. So many early mornings for class had hardened her to it. She'd be fine.</p><p>With practiced ease, she rolled out of bed to leave for the bathroom—and promptly tripped and hit the ground. She groaned softly and stood, rubbing the sand out of her eyes. Down at her feet was a small pile of clothes with a note set on top. She took the note and read it. It took several moments for the words to focus correctly.</p><p>
  <em>Hey, Max. Hope you enjoyed the movie, or at least what you were awake for. Here's some clothes that should fit you, and the shower's across the hall. Feel free to span wherever you want inside and let me know if you need anything else. I'll be downstairs when you wake up, but it's no rush. See you then.</em>
</p><p>Max read it through a few times, confused until it all came back to her. London. Chloe. Bladerunner. Spanners.</p><p>Right. She fell asleep still wearing that ruined brown dress from last night. Where it had come from, Max still didn't know. But that didn't matter now. Chloe said she would explain everything today, and hopefully Max could go home soon.</p><p>The clothes had the softness of freshly washed fabric, and the faint lavender smell pleasantly tickled Max's nose. The shirt was a button-up red flannel, and the jeans had no tears or holes in them. They appeared to be the right size when she checked the tag.</p><p>Max grabbed the clothes and moved away from the bed to go take a shower, but she quickly met an unexpected problem: the room had no door. There was a closet near the bed and a window on the other side of the room, but no exit to leave. Confused, Max checked the back of the closet but found only a solid wall behind the row of clothes. A torso mannequin stood just outside the closet door, and it creeped Max out a little more than it should have.</p><p>She stepped out, not understanding why there was no door. Rooms had doors. <em>Bedrooms</em> had doors. Still, maybe it was hidden, and Chloe forgot to tell her. That would make sense, right? Max stepped close and ran her hand all along each wall, looking for some crease or break that would reveal an exit, but she couldn't find one. Behind a couple of posters of scantily clad women and metal bands that Max didn't recognize was a section of wall where the paint wasn't exactly the same color, though when she knocked, it was as solid as the rest of it.</p><p>It made little sense. Did Chloe not want her to leave? It seemed unlikely, given how Chloe had acted last night, but there appeared to be no other way out. Max walked over to the window and looked outside. That rusted truck from the night before still sat in the driveway, but she could see no one walking around nearby. There wasn't so much as a ladder to get up or down.</p><p>"Hello?" She called out, but no one answered.</p><p>The drop to the ground wasn't... <em>too</em> far, Max thought, and even though she wasn't exactly the most athletic, it wouldn't be too difficult to lower herself down to the lip of the roof below and drop down. There was even a bit of rough scratchiness from where someone had crawled out many times before. It would be easy. People did it on TV all the time.</p><p> </p><p>-~-</p><p> </p><p>"Uh, Max? You okay up there?"</p><p>Chloe's voice rang up from below where Max hung from the window, one leg uncomfortably splayed out on the ledge while the other dangled wildly below. Her upper body still lay within the room while her arms held on for life, trying to not let her fall.</p><p>"Chloe? Is that you?"</p><p>"Yeah, it is. Do you need help?"</p><p>Max wiggled several more times, trying to swing her foot back up before she gave up and hung there limply. "If you don't mind. I just need a little pull from up here, then—"</p><p>Mid-sentence, Max found herself back on the ground in the driveway, Chloe next to her with a hand on her shoulder. This morning, she wore a white tank top with a design that Max thought would look nice on a skateboard.</p><p>"Well?" Chloe said as she stepped back and looked up at the open window. "What was that about? You decide to become an acrobat? No offense, but you could use some more practice."</p><p>Max rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. "I, um, couldn't find the door. And you didn't answer when I yelled for you."</p><p>Chloe's gaze snapped back to her in confusion. "I told you it was fine to span down. Did you miss the note I left you?"</p><p>Max stared back. This wasn't right. Chloe seemed to think she was one of them, but she wasn't. She didn't have any powers; she only wanted to get home.</p><p>An audible slap rang out as Chloe's hand hit her face. Her eyes opened wide with worry. "Oh, god. I am so sorry, Max. I completely forgot." She began pacing back and forth. "I don't usually bring over levelers, and after last night it completely slipped my mind. I didn't mean for you to have to climb out the damn window."</p><p>"It's okay, really." Max tried to calm Chloe down. She seemed so torn up about her mistake. "I'm alright now."</p><p>Chloe let out a half-hearted laugh. "Yeah, I guess you are." She looked back up to the window. "Good thing I was there, right?"</p><p>"Yeah..." Max replied. Chloe had an odd look on her face, staring at the second floor of the house, and when she said nothing else, Max continued.</p><p>"So, when are you going to take me home?"</p><p>Chloe didn't respond for several moments, and when she did, she turned back to Max with a disarming half-smile. "We can talk about that soon. Why don't you go take that shower? That dress is starting to smell."</p><p>Max didn't doubt it, considering what it had been through. She chose to not push it and let Chloe lead her back inside, where a half-eaten bowl of cereal sat on the counter. The TV was on, showing news about some multi-colored festival going on in Portland. The date said June 15<sup>th</sup>, 2022.</p><p>"Shower's up the stairs, second door on the left. I'll get the clothes out for you to change." Chloe scooped up the cereal and took a bite. Through the food, she continued. "I'll be down here when you finish."</p><p>"Thanks." Max gave Chloe a small nod and followed the directions. At the top of the stairs, she saw another portion of the wall painted over in a slightly wrong color, just like in the bedroom. On a whim, she gave it a slight knock. Solid. She supposed that if one could teleport, they'd have no need for doors. Though that didn't explain why it was only that one room.</p><p>The bathroom was exactly where Chloe had directed her, and inside on the toilet seat lay the pile of clothes from before, plus two towels. Max peeled the brown dress off of her body and grimaced at the dirt and grime caked to her skin. It clung to her like a rash, and tiny flakes fell to the ground as she threw the dress to the side. She should have done this last night.</p><p>Max turned the shower on as hot as she could stand and let the water wash away that day. Nothing about it made sense. How did she get there? And why London, of all places? Max had never even been out of the country before. If Chloe hadn't found her, she'd still be wandering around without food or shelter. The thought scared her. She should have given Chloe more credit for helping her, instead of thinking the bedroom was another trap.</p><p>Trust was a rare commodity in Max's life, however. She had been burned too many times by relying on someone she shouldn't have, and the fact that she responded with fear and suspicion not only when she first met Chloe on that gloomy street, but even after she had saved her, was no surprise. Other than her parents, Max had never had many people close enough to trust, and every time she had tried it only ended poorly. Even college, something that Max expected would be a fresh start, went by at a distance. It didn't matter, though. Max was an introvert, so she lived with it.</p><p>Lost in thought, Max eventually felt the water cool from its searing heat to barely better than lukewarm. Still, she didn't want to get out of the relaxing shower until she had to, so she only exited once the water had lost every bit of its heat. As she got dressed, she felt a little guilty about using all the hot water without knowing if Chloe had showered yet, though she wondered if it mattered. Couldn't Chloe just time travel forward when there was more?</p><p>Max put on the clothes that Chloe had left for her and immediately felt much more refreshed. She looked at herself in the mirror and saw several scratches she didn't remember getting, but they felt old enough to not bother her. When she finally felt ready, she opened the door, feeling the chill of the colder air, and headed back down. She spared another look at the painted-over doorway as she did.</p><p>"Max? That you up there?" Chloe's voice rang up from below. When Max came down, she saw Chloe scrubbing something down off of the stove with a rag. On the counter beside her sat four plates of pancakes. She wore the same clothes that she did last night, which struck Max as odd, as she had changed since then.</p><p>"It's me, don't worry," Max replied. "What are you doing?"</p><p>Chloe gave the stovetop one more scrub before tossing the rag over to the sink. "Just finishing up our pancakes for yesterday. I'll be out of here in just a moment."</p><p>"Pancakes for yesterday?"</p><p>Chloe nodded. "I spanned forward from last night to make the pancakes now, then I'll take them back. To you it'll probably look like I pulled them out of thin air, right?" Chloe laughed at that. "Don't tell me though, I'll see in a second."</p><p>She grabbed two plates and stuck them in the fridge.</p><p>"For later," she added, then came back to the counter to grab the other two.</p><p>Watching Chloe move, Max saw that she seemed to be in a bit of pain. She favored her left side and occasionally rubbed her cheek as if she had a toothache.</p><p>"Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?"</p><p>Chloe tossed a hand to casually play it off. "Nah. Just a side effect of there being two me's right now. Cause I'm from yesterday, so the me from today is feeling it too." She glanced around quickly, then stared at the clock on the wall for a moment.</p><p>"I'll explain it in a sec," she said before disappearing into thin air.</p><p>Immediately, the garage door opened and Chloe walked through, this time wearing the white tank top that Max saw earlier.</p><p>Chloe continued to rub her cheek tenderly as she spoke. "It's called Frag. Nasty stuff you get when you don't play by the rules. So naturally, I'm pretty used to it."</p><p>"Does it hurt?" Max asked. The wild situation amazed her. If Max understood right, she was having a conversation with Chloe from two different days, and Chloe had continued it without skipping a beat.</p><p>Chloe shrugged. "A little, I guess. But it's just a side effect of the job. I'll show you how it works on me, and it can be your first lesson. You wanted to know what we were about? This is a great start." She walked over and leaned on the kitchen counter with one arm. She gave Max a little smirk. "You thirsty, Max? I've got a bottle of orange juice in the fridge if you want it." She nodded her head as if goading her to do it.</p><p>Max didn't understand exactly what was happening, but she played along anyway. She walked over and opened the refrigerator door. Inside on the center shelf sat a single bottle of orange juice, everything else near it pushed away so that it sat alone. Max couldn't have missed it if she tried. The pancakes yesterday-Chloe had put in sat near the bottom.</p><p>Unsure of the point, she grabbed the bottled drink and closed the door. Chloe gave her another nod before Max unscrewed the top and took a sip. It was slightly chilled as if it had only been in there for a few minutes, but otherwise tasted normal. Exactly like bottled juice should.</p><p>"Tastes good, doesn't it?" Chloe asked, still smiling.</p><p>"I guess so." Max took another look at the bottle. Nothing unexpected.</p><p>"You know, it almost makes me pretty thirsty as well. I could really use one too, but there aren't any left!" Chloe shrugged and spoke in an over the top manner as if she were reciting from a script. "I guess I'll span back ten minutes to find one."</p><p>Presumably, she did just that, because Max saw her momentarily blink in place again and return with her own bottle of orange juice. From the label, it was the same brand. Chloe pried off the top and drank half of the juice in a single gulp.</p><p>When she finished, she let out a soft burp and screwed the cap back on. Nothing happened for several moments, until suddenly Chloe doubled over, clutching her stomach.</p><p>"Chloe!" Max cried, walking over to her. "Are you okay?"</p><p>Chloe held one arm wrapped around her front and used the other to wave Max off. "Peachy. Didn't expect it to hit me this hard is all." She coughed a deep rattle several times, and it took several moments for her to collect herself and stand somewhat straight. "That's what happens when you aren't careful. I went back and drank the same bottle you did, which obviously doesn't make any sense, so the universe dropkicks me for it."</p><p>Max made sure Chloe was stable before picking up Chloe's drink to check. As far as she could tell, it was the same thing, though there wasn't much that could be different between the two. Before she could start checking barcodes, Chloe snatched it out of her hands, still shaking slightly.</p><p>"Best you don't look too closely, and I'll tell you why in a moment." She set the bottle back down with as much of a flourish as she could muster. "We both drank the same drink, and they were each clearly unopened. That's called a paradox, and when you do one of those the universe tells you to get off your ass and fix it. That's the Frag you just saw. It hits harder the worse you screw up."</p><p>Chloe's face had a tinge of green to it, and Max worried that she would be sick, though she continued with her explanation.</p><p>"It won't go away til someone goes and fixes it, and usually that involves more spanning around. You gotta be careful, though, because if you accidentally screw something else up it'll get worse and worse until you fade out of existence. That's where ghosts come from, by the way." She added.</p><p>"Oh," Max said, looking at the bottle on the counter. "So it's like going back in time and killing your grandfather. If you did that, you'd die if you don't fix it?"</p><p>Chloe tilted her head in partial agreement. "I suppose, but why would you want to kill your own grandfather? Most people don't do stuff like that."</p><p>"Oh. I guess." Max felt awkward for a moment. Something about the way Chloe reacted made her think it was a dumb question. "So how are you going to fix it?"</p><p>"It's easy," she replied, walking over to the cabinet and opening it up. She winced a little as she did so. "I've got another bottle in here. Just gotta drop it off..." She glanced at the clock. "About fourteen minutes ago now. Gotta make sure not to run into myself again unless I want to get decked."</p><p>She reached in and grabbed another bottle, once again exactly like the other two. One more blink and the bottle disappeared, Chloe back and immediately sighing in relief. Max could see the pain fade from her face.</p><p>As Chloe did so, Max thought about it for a moment. "Wait, so you didn't actually drink the same thing as me? Because I drank that one you just put back, right?"</p><p>Chloe made a little side-to-side motion with her hand. "Exactly, but the universe didn't make sense till I went back and fixed it. That's what Frag is. It's an obligation you have to fulfill to the universe, otherwise, it'll keep growing until someone makes things right. It's a little weird, but that's basically it."</p><p>Max... didn't entirely get it. They drank the same thing, but then they didn't, and so they never did? It made her head hurt thinking about how it worked.</p><p>"Max?" Chloe's voice cut through Max's thoughts, and she looked up to see Chloe feigning a wiping motion under her nose. Max lifted a finger to her lips, and they came away covered in red.</p><p>Her nose had begun bleeding. Chloe teleported—<em>spanned</em>, rather—and returned with a box of tissues, which she held out. Max took one and wiped the blood away until she was sure it had stopped bleeding. It took longer than she expected, and she needed to grab an extra tissue to get it all.</p><p>"You don't, uh, have a history of nosebleeds, do you, Max?" Chloe asked once she cleaned it all up.</p><p>Max shook her head. "My dad does sometimes when the air is dry, but this has never happened to me."</p><p>Chloe frowned at Max's words. Something about the situation seemed to upset her, and she eventually replied. "Why don't you hang out here for a bit? There's someone I got to talk to about this. It's probably not a big deal, but I need to make sure."</p><p>"Do you think something's wrong?"</p><p>Chloe shrugged, but there was a tightness in it that gave away her attempt at playing it off. "Doubt it." She turned to the door. "I'll be back soon. Feel free to raid the fridge if you need."</p><p>And with that, she was gone before Max could respond. Not even a wave of her arm before she disappeared into thin air, leaving nothing but more questions behind.</p><p>Honestly, it made Max a little jealous, how easy it seemed to be. Being able to teleport and time travel at will seemed like such an impressive power. Unfortunately, Max didn't have the gene or serum or whatever one required to make it work, let alone the training.</p><p>But how Chloe reacted when Max's nose started bleeding set a pit in Max's stomach. What was so odd about it? If Chloe suffered this Frag for messing around, wouldn't Max as well? So much about this whole situation was too twisted and confusing for her to wrap her head around.</p><p>With no possible way to know how long it would be before Chloe returned, Max wandered into the living room. She had fallen asleep last night watching <em>Bladerunner</em>, though she only got about halfway through before falling asleep. Chloe must have carried her up to the bed at some point.</p><p>Or rather spanned her up. Without a door, that would make the most sense. Max still hadn't wrapped her head around the idea of just teleporting everywhere, or what restrictions it might have. It seemed very powerful and easy to mess up if something as simple as touching the wrong thing could make you sick.</p><p>Max sat on the couch and turned on the television to browse through the shows. A few she didn't recognize, but that may have been more her lack of knowledge than anything else. Truthfully, she wouldn't know whether these shows were new, considering how little she watched.</p><p>Eventually, Max decided on a police procedural to pass the time. It was interesting enough, considering how much she loved mysteries, though she wished that she had her phone with her. She hadn't woken up with it in London, so it was as lost as everything else she owned. She considered going for a walk, but didn't want to be gone when Chloe returned.</p><p>About three episodes in—it seemed the channel was running a marathon—Max spotted a reflection of something sitting on a shelf out of the corner of her eye. She got up from her seat and walked over. On the shelf sat a thin piece of translucent glass, slightly smaller than a sheet of paper. When she picked it up, she noticed that her fingers left no marks or smudges on the clean glass, nor did it seem like it had collected any dust from where it had been sitting.</p><p>She ran her fingers over the strange item until she heard a <em>click</em>. The glass faded into a dark opacity, and a screen appeared. This, at least, Max could recognize. Though the object had no system or structure she knew, it was clearly a tablet, and on the screen, Max could see several familiar apps.</p><p>Surprisingly, there appeared to be no lock, which meant that Max had free rein of everything on it. People always told her she was a bit of a snoop, though in this case, Max hoped Chloe wouldn't mind too much.</p><p>The internet app caught her eye immediately. Not that she would go through Chloe's history, but she could search whatever she wanted. Even...</p><p>Google hadn't changed in the few years that had passed, fortunately. She considered what to search, then the obvious answer hit her. Her family. The sudden fear of what she would find dropped her mood immediately. Had her parents moved on? Were they somehow still looking for her after all these years? Maybe she wasn't even missing, because weird time travel meaning she eventually made it back.</p><p>Into the search, she typed <em>Max Caulfield Seattle missing person</em>.</p><p>The first result held the of all Seattle's missing persons, and she scanned through the immense page, searching for her own name past the many others who had yet to be found. There, she spotted it. A picture of herself that her dad had taken at a hockey game about a year earlier. Her own face staring back at her.</p><p><em>Missing since April 8</em><sup><em>th</em> </sup> <em>, 2014.</em></p><p>The page had all her identifying features, but she couldn't stand to look at any longer. Tears threatened to stream down her face, no matter how hard she tried to hold them in. For eight years her friends and family had no idea where she disappeared to.</p><p>Max blinked through the tears. She could call them. If this thing worked as a phone she could call them right now and let them know. She couldn't imagine what it would be like for them, hearing her voice when they thought she was dead.</p><p>She steeled herself. Something in her told her she shouldn't, but she couldn't leave her parents with no answer. She set the tablet down, webpage still open, and looked around the room. A phone sat on the wall nearby, and Max hoped it worked. When she put the receiver against her ear, she heard a dial tone, so she quickly put in the numbers she had memorized by heart. As a kid, her mom made sure she never forgot, just in case, and Max was glad she had.</p><p>One ring as the call connected. It sent a chill down her spine.</p><p>Two.</p><p>Three...</p><p>An unfamiliar voice answered, its words cracked and aging. "Eh? Who's this?"</p><p>The person on the other end of the line certainly wasn't her mom or dad. Max knew her grandparents well enough that she knew it wasn't them either. A complete stranger answered the call.</p><p>"Hello? Anyone there?" the voice continued.</p><p>Max couldn't bring herself to answer. She knew she should ask where her parents were, or why this stranger answered instead of them, but she couldn't. More than anything, she just wanted to go home. Chloe was nice, and had taken excellent care of her, but Max couldn't stay much longer. Nothing made sense.</p><p>Max put the phone back onto the hook without a word. She stood there at a loss, staring at the phone and wondering who to call next. No other numbers came to mind. An email might reach them, but there was no guarantee they would believe it. They'd likely think it was some scammer taking advantage of a heartbroken couple.</p><p>Before she could do anything, though, a shuffle from behind caught her attention.</p><p>"Hey, Max. Sorry about the wait, I—"</p><p>Max turned to see Chloe appear and stop in the middle of the living room. Chloe's eyes were on Max, slightly confused, until they fell on the still-powered tablet. A sense of realization flashed across her face, and her shoulders sagged into something like disappointment.</p><p>"Oh." Was all she said for several moments. She pulled her mouth tight into a worried frown. "I should've expected this. You called your parents, I'm guessing?"</p><p>Max nodded. Chloe didn't seem angry, but Max still got the impression that she did something she shouldn't have.</p><p>A deep breath escaped Chloe's lips as she thought about what to say. "It's my fault, really. I have no idea what I'm doing and I didn't even think about making sure you wouldn't find out.”</p><p>The words took a moment to sink in. "You knew that I didn't make it back? You lied to me?"</p><p>"No, no, no." Chloe put her hands up defensively. "It's not like that. I didn't know anything. But it's how these things work." She dropped her hands and fidgeted. "Once you know something, it's set in stone. Before then, anything can happen. Whatever you read or heard, now that's how the world is, and we can't change it without getting Fragged."</p><p>"So I'm just another missing person forever? You can't take me back?"</p><p>Chloe shook her head slowly. "It's like the juice. If I take you back, the Universe won't make sense, and for something this big, upset stomachs and nosebleeds are the least of our problems."</p><p>Max didn't understand completely, but the bit that she did made sense. It would be another paradox. If she went back home when she left, there wouldn't be a missing persons report for her.</p><p>"So, what? I'm stuck here with you forever? Or are you going to use some future mind wipe so I can't tell anyone? If I can't go back to Seattle, or home, or anywhere, what's even the point?" The words came out more aggressive than she intended, but she didn't care. Chloe was the one who didn't tell her any of this. All she had to do was say '<em>Hey Max, don't look anything up about your family and friends or you'll fuck everything permanently.</em>'</p><p>Chloe grimaced and stepped back at Max's words. "We won’t do that. There are other ways we can fix this; that's why I left a little while ago. You just have to trust me, okay?"</p><p>Trust. That word again. Max felt the temptation to tell Chloe to forget it and just leave right then and there. Chloe could stop her, though. Their chase in London had proved that fact. But what if Chloe really wanted to help? She was running her hands through her blue hair with a strange half-hopeful look, likely hoping that Max wouldn't make her have to stop her, and the awareness of something in particular struck Max.</p><p>Chloe was as lost as Max was. She had been doing a job for someone and thought Max was a spanner, too. And because she was wrong, she had to deal with all the problems of making sure Max didn't screw things up or run away in fear. Chloe had mentioned that she was barely more than a newcomer to this entire thing as it was, and the surprise of Max showing up had overwhelmed her. She was in over her head and trying to keep it under control, despite how unprepared she was.</p><p>Max made her choice, hoping she wouldn't regret it. If anything seemed wrong, she vowed to herself that she'd get answers before anything else.</p><p>"Okay," she said. "I trust you, Chloe. What do we need to do?"</p><p>A relieved sigh escaped Chloe's lips at that as she took a moment to compose herself. "Okay. Okay." She rubbed her hands one more time, and Max could see from where she stood how clammy they were. "So. I talked to another Span Four I kinda know while I was gone. I told him about the nosebleed you got, and he told me he'd get someone to come by to check it out. Basically, you're not supposed to feel anything around Paradoxes or Frag if you're a leveller. Since you did, it's weird, so that's why I left."</p><p>As Chloe finished explaining, three solid knocks rang out from the front door, loud enough to carry through the entire house.</p><p>Chloe let out a soft laugh and walked to the front door to open it. "One joy of time travellers: their timing is always impeccable."</p><p>"Yeah," Max said, looking over but not moving. "No kidding."</p><p>Standing on the doorstep was a man, though that word was hardly appropriate for the Herculean figure that Max saw. He stood at what had to be over seven feet tall, his head outlined with a perfectly chiseled jaw with a body built and sculpted to match. His skin was coppery and had a slight glisten, almost seeming to glow when Max looked directly at him.</p><p>Chloe stumbled back in surprise as she saw him and almost looked a little fearful as she spoke. "Are you, uh, here for us?"</p><p>The man nodded and stepped in, closing the door behind him. "Max and Chloe, correct?" His words enunciated themselves perfectly, though Max couldn't place his accent. It sounded vaguely East Asian, though any more than that, she couldn't say. "My name is Barel. When you two are ready, we may depart."</p><p>Chloe held up a hand. "Just, uh, one second."</p><p>She walked over to Max and whispered to her in a hushed tone. "That's a fucking Exalted. I've never met one in person, but I didn't think they'd send one out for just this."</p><p>Max didn't know the extent of what this meant, but from Chloe's reaction, it was serious. "Is it something we should worry about?"</p><p>"No, no. I mean, I don't think so." She didn't sound confident. "Let's just see where he's taking us. Follow my lead. We don’t have much of a choice anyway if someone sent him for us."</p><p>Chloe broke off and walked over to the Exalted and Max followed, watching her sweat bullets.</p><p>"So. Barel. Where, uh, are we going?"</p><p>"The Council wishes to speak to you both. More than that, I do not know." He stepped forward to the two of them and set a heavy hand on each of their shoulders.</p><p>Max could see Chloe's eyes grow wide as she listened. Under her breath, she whispered an <em>oh shit</em>.</p><p>"What does that mean?" Max asked.</p><p>Chloe responded immediately. "It means we're going to goddamn Atlantis."</p><p>Barel must have taken that as the signal, because in the span of a single moment the three of them moved from standing in the hallway of Chloe's house to arriving in a bustling cityscape almost 15,000 years before.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hopefully, future chapters will come at a more frequent pace. I won't make any promises I'm liable to break, however.</p><p>Check out my profile if you want more finished stories.</p><p>Thanks for reading.</p>
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